Sermon for Advent 5 (2B)
December 10, 2017
Mark 1:1-8
December 10, 2017
Mark 1:1-8
In preparation for this morning, I was reading the
Rev. Theresa Cho’s reflection on the passage from today’s gospel. Pastor Cho is a blogger and serves as a
co-pastor of a Presbyterian church in San Francisco. Her reflection is called “Baptismal
Limitations” and in it she describes the work that John the Baptist does –
baptizing, of course, but also receiving confession and preaching. Each of the things that Jesus will do are
things John is already doing; but John knows that he has limitations.[1]
John is clear that the work he is doing is merely preparation for the work of
Jesus – Jesus, who John proclaims, “is more powerful than” he is. So much so, in fact, that John does not even
feel “worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals.”[2]
So John is limited in what he can accomplish. And yet he finds his place in the story of
his faith. He knows the writings of the prophet Isaiah and understands himself
to be the messenger that Isaiah wrote about, a messenger of preparation, of hope,
of anticipation. In the theatre world we
might think of John as the crowd-warmer, the stand-up comedian whose job it is
to get the audience in the mood for the main event.
There are ways in which you and I serve as crowd
warmers, ways in which we have more in common with the likes of John the
Baptist than the likes of Jesus. In other words, we have limitations. We are
not qualified to be the main event. There are a variety of responses to this
news – to this recognition of our limitations. One common response is to just
throw up our hands and say, “Why bother? It won’t make a difference anyhow?” At one time or another, I think, everyone has
this experience – it can be in the face of a political climate that seems decisively
divisive, it can be after a job search turns up rejection after rejection after
rejection, or it can be for a student whose best efforts in class seem never to
be enough. Why bother? It won’t make a
difference anyhow?
But this is precisely the reason we need someone like
John the Baptist to enter the story – to enter OUR story of faith. Because John the Baptist acknowledges limitations.
My goodness, he understands himself to be not even worthy of being the servant
of Jesus, the one who would untie Jesus’ sandals. And yet, even with these limitations,
John does not throw up his arms in defeat. He does not surrender. He presses on to play his part in the
unfolding drama, even when that part will lead ultimately to his death.
Another response to the news that we are not the main
event is to ignore it and act as though we are.
We can do this in all sorts of ways – working harder and longer hours
until someone notices how important we are (or until we burn ourselves out with
trying). We can do this by not asking for help when we need it. Or it can
happen by tweeting something so outrageous or controversial that the news cycle
around us stops and looks our way – even if only for a moment – thereby making
us believe once again that are, in fact, the main event.
The book of Isaiah was written over a number of
centuries but it was begun sometime in the 8th century BC – a time
when Israel was first occupied by the Assyrian Empire and later, taken over by
the Babylonian Empire. When the
Babylonians conquered the Assyrians, they took over Jerusalem and deported many
of the Israelites to Babylon. The first
part of Isaiah tries to explain the reason for these events and the author does
not mince words:
“Ah, you
who are wise in your own eyes, and shrewd in your own sight! . . . as the
tongue of fire devours the stubble, and as dry grass sinks down in the flame,
so their root will become rotten, and their blossom go up like dust; for they
have rejected the instruction of the LORD of hosts, and have despised the word
of the Holy One of Israel.”[3]
This is one of the more common explanations that the prophets
offered for why horrible things happened to the Israelites – because they acted
with arrogance and self-importance and behaved according to their own precepts
rather than relying on and obeying the one true God, they were punished. Now,
however, we feel today about such punitive measures meted out by a God we have
come to know and understand as all loving, the truism behind it remains: we are
not the main event and when we act as though we are, things will likely not go
well for long.
And again, this is precisely why we need John the
Baptist in our story of faith. John the
Baptist is right-sized. A little bizarre
in his camel-hair eating-locusts-and-wild-honey kind of way – but, nonetheless,
right-sized and clear about his purpose in life. Clear about his place in God’s
drama and willing to take his part.
A couple of weeks ago we celebrated the baptism of Gwendolyn
Susan Lewis, daughter of Mark Babbitt and Kate Lewis. In that event we were reminded of our own
baptism and the promises we have made.
In our baptism – and in our regular remembrance of those covenantal
promises – we are saying we will take our place in the unfolding drama of God’s
story. We, like John the Baptist, willingly
agree to prepare the way for the return of Christ. We prepare the way through our ongoing
participation in worship, through the reading and studying of Scripture,
through prayer. We prepare the way by
standing up against the evil in the world whether that is through contacting
our elected representatives when unfair bills are being considered or standing
with brothers and sisters who risk deportation to a land they’ve never called
home. We prepare the way by caring for
the homebound and the homeless, by providing food and shelter to our neighbors in
need, by visiting the sick and the imprisoned.
We prepare the way by being the Good News of God in Christ in a world
that is desperate for Good News. We prepare
the way.
We prepare the way for one who is more powerful than
we can even imagine. We prepare the way for one whom we feel unworthy to even
stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals.
And yet we prepare the way, boldly living into our own limitations and,
at the same time, rejoicing that Jesus Christ - the one who has come, who is
with us now, and who will come again - calls us Beloved, just as we are. Prepare the way.
[1]
Theresa Cho, “Advent 2: Baptismal Limitations, Mark 1:1-8,” in “Advent/Christmas
Series: Coming Soon,” in A Preacher’s
Guide to Lectionary Sermon Series: Thematic Plans for Years A, B, and C, compiled
by Jessica Miller Kelley, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2016),
85-86.
[2]
Mark 1:7.
[3]
Isaiah 5:21, 24.
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